As an adult, have you ever snuck (sneaked? sneaken? snook?) onto a playground late at night to swing on the swings, slide down the slide and play in the sandbox, laughing and singing to yourself while you try to remember where you hid your house keys...and why you have house keys when you don’t own a house?
How many times have you thrown a handful of change into the air as high as you can, only to get hit in the head with 23 cents and a huge pile of bird crap?
When a cute little puppy raises itself up on its hind legs and walks towards you very fast, don’t you think you better run because if he figured out how to do that he probably already knows your address and how to use a tazer?
Did you ever talk to your TV all night long and expect a reply with a shotgun pointed at the cable box so the TV could clearly see who is in charge here?
If my mail ends up at your house will you please translate it to smoke signal and smoke it over to my house already, double-time?
Does a semi-colon ever feel like a crippled colon; like a full colon with a twisted little comma foot? For that matter, does semi-sweet chocolate ever feel inferior to fully sweet chocolate? Hey semi-sweet, chin up bucko. You are still pretty gosh darn sweet to me.
If Harry Potter, Superman, Batman and all of the X-Men got into a huge fight in the middle of the desert, no weapons allowed, could you be any more of a super geek?
When you were nine years old, did you look up at the moon and think it was following you as you walked? Did you then walk a little faster and realize that you couldn’t shake the moon, no matter which way you turned? Did you then run as fast as you could to try to outrun the moon only to find that the moon is a cunning hunter that will not be denied its foolish prey? As I’m sure you now know, the moon is not made of cheese. The moon is made of finely ground nine year old boy bones.
Have you ever boldly walked up to a man and shook his hand firmly and confidently, with no hint of self-consciousness, only to realize that he is sitting on the toilet, and that’s not a hand?
If a mailbox suddenly opened its mouth and ran down the street screaming with its little red flag stuck up in the air, would you chase after it or just start screaming yourself, so that people would be distracted and not try to hunt down and shoot your rogue mailbox?
Have you ever been so hungry that you tried to bite your own hand because it looked like a turkey sandwich with fingers and fingernails…and no bread...and veins...wait a minute, that’s just my hand!
Have you ever hired a grown adult man for your child’s birthday party who calls himself “Dingdong the Magician Clown”? If so, you deserve every bad thing that followed that catastrophic decision.
If a beautiful baby boy spits at you from his carriage, will that finally give you the motivation to take off your “Virginia Is for Lovers” t-shirt and burn it? Follow-up question: If Virginia is for Lovers, what is Delaware for? Seriously, does anyone know what Delaware is for? I’m coming up blank here.
If 2 + 2 = 4, and -2 + 2 = 0, then does me + pizza = delicious?
Are you allergic to pets? Specifically, are you allergic to pets with tiny pollen guns and dust mite breath? Yeah, me too.
If Tom ever catches Jerry (fingers crossed), will Tom be merciful or will he go medieval on Jerry’s mouse ass?
Does Ralph Macchio ever go to the zoo and stare at the cranes nostalgically until zoo security arrests him for suspicious crane staring?
Do you remember that night, late December, back in ’63? Man, what a night that was.
Are you going to just stand there and scream at me in the middle of this parking lot? If so, then I’m going to put my clothes back on and climb into my own shopping cart. But then, who will push me? You? I didn’t think so.
Why do English accents always make me instinctively double over in pain, crying out for God’s sweet mercy to save me from inevitable death? Through 10 years of exhaustive research, I have tracked it down to a combination of Earl Grey tea, Stonehenge and Crocodile Dundee. Oh, he was Australian? That’s not a knife...THAT’S a knife! Man that really WAS a huge knife he had.
If 35 penguins run down a hill toward an igloo in the remote tundra of Alaska and smash into it, shattering the icy bricks with their tiny heads, how long will it take for an Eskimo living in that igloo to despise the haphazard nature of penguins?
If I eventually do get sent to jail (long story), will you smuggle in a DVD copy of the complete works of Bobcat Goldthwait for me? I’ll need something in the big house to convince me that there is still a just and fair world worth fighting for. Better yet, if you can get Bobcat himself, all the better. He’s available.
Blast From The Past!!!
3 years ago